Preacher Man
by plaidandwhiskeydean
Summary: "Forgive me, father for I have sinned. My last confession was…" he trailed off, chuckling a little. "Well, probably never… but I've been having impure thoughts about a boy…a man really."


People come and go. It was just the way of life. Some would stick around longer than others, some would stick around for their whole lives but no matter what, they always go at some point. Sam would reach out, try touch every soul that he can. Help them find the way to the path away from sin and greed. Every person he touched always seemed to leave with light in their eyes and faith in their heart.

Then one day he walked into his church and sat down in one of the back pews and just watched him.

Suddenly the words that seemed to come from Sam's lips so effortlessly were now having a difficult time to come off his tongue. They were garbled and a mess to understand and oh, he tried not to look at the man, watch the way that he was watching him, his tongue slowly dragging across his bottom lip, kicking his feet up on the pew in front of him with complete disregard to the people around him, completely at ease with himself and perfectly content to sit and stare at Sam tried to make his way through his sermon.

That night when Sam crawled into bed underneath cold covers in the darkest hours, he tried to chase away his first impure thoughts in years by reciting bible verses and scripture. But that man, that man with the green eyes would always somehow find a way back to him, his lips forming the words that Sam was repeating over and over again.

One day, after several weeks of this silent torture of nothing but dreams and looks, they pass each other in the hall and the man gives Sam a look that made chills run up and down his spine. They are all alone in this dark part of the hall and this man looks so dangerous, looking at Sam as if he wanted to eat him alive and all Sam wants to do is follow him. Follow him to wherever he wanted to go. And so he does. The man ducks into one of the confessional booths, waiting for the other door to close.

He cleared his throat before speaking. A sound in of itself that should be illegal.

"Forgive me, father for I have sinned. My last confession was…" he trailed off, chuckling a little. "Well, probably never… but I've been having impure thoughts about a boy…a man really. Only know his name but that doesn't stop the thoughts."

He paused again as he turns his head to face Sam on the other side. "You know, I bet he makes the prettiest of sounds when I've got my mouth wrapped around his cock. Begging for more. Begging for all of me. That doesn't...that doesn't make me evil...corrupt, does it? Don't wanna ruin my chances of walking through those pearly gates upstairs if you know what I mean, preacher man." Sam could hear the smirk in his voice.

It took Sam a moment to find his voice, longer than what it should have. He had heard this song being sung many times before, one of infidelity and unfaithfulness but they were always about another woman...and they never seemed to be directed towards him. But this man, the one on the other side seemed to not only talk to him but talk about him.

Sam closed his eyes for just a second and he mentally cursed himself for allowing this man to have this power over him. He shouldn't listen to him, let those words sink into his brain, settle in other parts of his body.

"Well…" He had to clear his throat before continuing. "Thoughts do not make a man corrupt. You haven't acted on these thoughts yet, have you?"

"Not yet, preacher man."

"And the boy…the man, does he know about how you feel?" Sam could feel the man looking at him, studying his profile through the semi-see through wall. All he had to do was turn his head and there was no doubt that he would see his bright green eyes staring at him.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You see, we've only had one conversation but I think he knows. And I think he wants it too. At least deep down he does. I know it. I know it by the way that he looks at me across the room that he just doesn't know exactly what to do. Because you see, preacher man, he's the most innocent man that I have ever laid my eyes on. So righteous that it's almost sinful. Oh and I can't tell you how much I want him. I can't tell you how much I want him screaming out my name. You want that too, don't cha, Sam?"

Sam's heart stopped. He was sure of it. Why else would everything have just fallen silent. His blood though, his blood was still pumping in his veins, past his ears, muffling everything. His heart had most certainly stopped but his blood was still pumping.

"I'm…sorry, sir, I've got…I've got to go," Sam stumbled through his words, standing, trying so hard not to look at the man through the wall. He had to get out of here before he lead himself down the path of corruption. Before he allowed himself to be lead.

Sam yanked the confessional door open only to be stopped by the man standing in front of him, a lazy smile on his face.

"You're lying, preacher man," Dean said, pushing Sam back down on the bench. "Not a sin but I bet you're gonna be begging on your knees for forgiveness tonight, among other things, aren't you?"

"I…"

Dean's mouth brushed over the shell of Sam's ear as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "My name's Dean," he whispered, his low voice doing sinful things to Sam's cock. "Just so you know what name to scream. I expect you to use it, preacher man."

Dean pushed further into the small space, dropping to his knees, forcing himself in between Sam's thighs.

"I see the way that you look at me, finding me no matter where I am in the service. Eyeing me like the way you do. Always me. Never anyone else. That's practically sex, preacher man. Practically a sin."

His palms were now resting on Sam's thighs, feeling the way that the muscles were tight underneath his black dress pant. He took in the outline of Sam's erection that was now most certainly there. He licked his lips as he dragged his eyes slowly over the rest of Sam's body, his chest, his shoulders until finally he was looking at him again.

He was beautiful. Only seemed right to worship him like the shrine he was in the house of God.

"Dean." Sam uttered his name, begging...begging for Dean to let him go, begging for him to never let him leave.

Sam's fingers dug into the wooden bench as Dean lowered his head towards his crotch, his breath becoming heavier as he watched Dean lick his lips.

"I've been having many lustful thoughts that I need to confess to," Dean muttered, his hands sliding up Sam's thighs, his fingers just barely brushing against Sam's erection.

"Dean…" Sam closed his eyes as Dean ducked his head.

Sam pushed his hips up just the tiniest bit.

"Preacher man is gonna lead me astray." Dean chuckled, a breathes distance away from Sam's cock that was now pressing against his pants but then Dean moved away, pressing his lips to his stomach.

Sam could feel the heat coming off of Dean, the heat from his lips seeping in through his shirt, setting his skin on fire. Dean's lips skirted all over Sam's body but never really touching, just a hint, a tease of what would come.

"But you've got to tell me, preacher man, that there has got to be some things that you would like to confess," Dean's lips traced along Sam's jaw.

"Dean, don't make me… I…" Sam pleaded, begging for Dean to stop, desperate for him to continue.

He had been pure for so long and to lose it to this beautiful stranger…he wanted nothing more.

"I'll stop, preacher man." Dean's fingers danced along Sam's chest, every soft tap of his fingers sent jolts up and down Sam's spine. "I'll stop if you want me too. I'll leave, put this place in my rearview mirror and never look back if that's what you want. But I can also give you everything that you have ever wanted. I can take you to heaven and deliver you to hell, Sam." Dean traced the shell of his ear with his tongue.

Sam was trembling underneath Dean, fingers flexing, grabbing and letting go of the confessional bench as he tried to hold his self resolve. Keep his self control. His blood was still pounding in his ears and he wasn't sure if his heart had ever really truly started beating again.

He was suspended in that place between life and death.

Pain and pleasure.

Sin and righteousness.

When Dean lightly pulled at Sam's earlobe, he lost it. He grabbed at the lapels of the red shirt that Dean was wearing and yanked him back against him.

Sam kissed Dean, his fingers balled into fist in his shirt, his tongue running over those sinful lips that he watched Dean lick during his sermons, finally getting a taste of them. And fuck, the taste of Dean's mouth. Whiskey and sin and it was everything that Sam could have ever wanted.

"I've been having lustful thoughts too," Sam mumbled against Dean's lips, still holding him tight.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Sam pulled away just long enough to look at Dean for just a moment and he swore that in the poor lighting that Dean's eyes had turned black. "Tell me…confess to me all of your secrets."

Oh and Sam wanted too. Every inch of him wanted his tongue to spill every dirty thought that ever crossed his mind the moment that Dean walked into his church. He was desperate to.

"I've been thinking about someone else too." Sam muttered as Dean carded his fingers through Sam's hair, yanking his head back, his lips trailing back along his jawline. Dean pressed his lips to that spot right at the edge of Sam's jaw, sucking and licking and leaving his mark for everyone to see that their preacher wasn't as innocent as he claimed to be. At least not anymore. "Very lustful thoughts about this person."

Sam ran a hand down the side of Dean's face, cupping his cheek, just looking at him, mind working. He had to bite down on this tongue to keep from moaning out when Dean turned his head just ever so slightly in Sam's hand and traced his tongue within his palm.

"Yeah?" Dean questioned, leaning back forward, pulling Sam's shirt open only to find that he wasn't wearing an under shirt underneath. Dean's mouth attacked Sam's bare chest, marking him, leaving purple bruises in his wake as he worked his way down his stomach. "How lustful?"

Sam groaned, watching Dean undo his belt and popped the button on his pants, working the zipper down.

"Very lustful. Very dirty, inappropriate thoughts." Sam muttered. "I've wanted to feel his lips against mine. I've only felt them once thus far and I want it again." Dean glanced up at Sam, his eyes hooded, a very signature smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Since the moment that I've laid my eyes on him, I wanted to feel his hands on my body." Dean reached inside of Sam's boxers and pulled out his cock, already hard in his hand. "I've imagined, late at night in my bed, how it would feel to have his mouth on me."

Sam whimpered when Dean brushed his mouth along Sam's length.

"Is that all?" Dean licked at the tip of his cock.

"No…" Sam shuddered. "At some point I want to worship every inch of him. Learn the lines of his body. I want to taste him, all of him. I want to feel his body pinned against mine."

Dean closed his mouth around Sam, giving a hard suck causing Sam to buck his hips, his hair now in his face as he looked down at Dean.

"I want to feel him inside of me. I want him to want me as much as I want him."

Dean ducked his head once again as he took Sam into his mouth in one long stroke, loving the weight of Sam's cock on his tongue as he moved his head up and down.

Dean pulled off again with a wet, dirty pop of his lips, looking straight at Sam and Sam whined at the lost of feeling of having Dean on him.

"Don't worry, I want you just as much, baby boy." And that was the last thing that Dean said before taking Sam back into his mouth. Sam bucked his hips into Dean's mouth, driven to insanity by the want and need to feel the wet heat of his mouth.

Dean hollowed his cheeks, taking Sam even deeper in the back of his throat and Sam bucked and moaned out Dean's name trying to get more friction against his throbbing cock, all of his self control gone. He wasn't sure how Dean was so calm, so collected, so in control of his actions. He wasn't even breathing hard while Sam had sweat starting to bead at his hairline, sticking his hair to his forehead.

"Dean, I'm gonna…I'm gonna…" Sam's fingers pulling at the longer strands of Dean's hair and Dean pulled off Sam again, making Sam want to scream out in frustration.

"Gonna what, preacher man? Gonna come? Wanna come in my mouth?" Dean asked looking so innocent on his knees compared to the half naked man that sat in front of him, desperately thrusting his hips into the fist that now closed around his cock.

Dean slid his hand up and down Sam's cock, squeezing his hand just ever so slightly, running his thumb over the head. Sam shuddered again.

"Come on, Sammy. Come in my mouth for me. I wanna taste you. I wanna taste how innocent you are," his mouth was back around him, thumb right next to his tongue, hand still gripping him and that was all it took.

A few more strokes of his hand. A few more licks of his tongue and Sam was screaming out, clawing at Dean's hair, coming down his throat.

While Sam was still breathing heavily, trying to see straight, trying to think straight, Dean tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up. He pressed a chaste kiss to Sam's lips. "I'll see you Sunday, preacher man."


End file.
